


you make my heart go bo-ba, bo-ba

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Because of the Bubble Tea, Castiel Learns to be Human (Supernatural), Domesticity in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Gen, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Winchester Family Fluff (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:22:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24509863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Dean Winchester, for all the problem-solving, demon-exorcising, creature-killing skills he’d developed over the years, was thoroughly stumped by a simple straw.“Um.” He tried to make it sound as casual as possible, as if he’d never struggled with a straw before in his life.In which Dean meets his greatest enemy to date, Kevin's pride is kept intact, and Sam learns a thing or two. Also, bubble tea.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 5
Kudos: 72
Collections: Anonymous





	you make my heart go bo-ba, bo-ba

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tiamatv](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiamatv/gifts).



> [tia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiamatv/pseuds/tiamatv) slayed me with her rendition of dumpling-folding, so i tried my best with this bubble-tea inspired fic. unbetaed (all tense shift errors are mine)
> 
> (alternatively: did I write this entire thing out for one silly-billy pun? perhaps.)

Sunday afternoon found the boys in the bunker’s library, poring over books and case files. This was, arguably, Dean’s least favorite part of the actual case: the research. He’d always been more of the knives-toting, guns-blazing type, but sitting down and reading things? Now that was definitely more up Sam’s alley. It didn’t help that Dean always had some insatiable desire to just _move_ , and sitting quietly in a room for hours on end with nothing but some books and papers in front of him did nothing to help with this growing irritation.

“Dean?” A sharp poke in the shoulder, and Dean whirled around to face his brother.

“Whoa now, totally uncalled for. Whaddaya want?” He glared at Sam and looked down, taking in how much Sam had already written in his notes. Sam’s writing was nice and neat, almost copy-worthy. On the other hand, Dean’s notes were… well, _creative_ , if the random highlighting and doodles were worth anything.

“I said, how’s the research going?”

“Uh, it’s going,” Dean replied, even though he, frankly, had no idea where anything was going these days. “Care to refresh me on what we’re looking for?”

“Dean.” Sam frowned. “Did you do anything at all.”

It wasn’t even a question at this point. Dean shrugged helplessly.

Sam sighed. “Looking for cases involving dead pregnant women? Specifically those whose blood has been drained? Any of that ring a bell?”

“Oh, blood-sucking monsters. Again. You sure we aren’t looking for a vampire?”

“Dean. All the cases have specifically centered around pregnant women. You can’t deny that there’s some sort of connection there.”

“Yeah, okay, point taken.” Dean decided to redirect. “Uh, so, how ‘bout you? You find anything?”

“Actually, I did.” Sam cleared his throat, and Dean prepared for what was perhaps going to be a long, arduous speech about his brother’s extensive findings, especially considering how Sam was exceptionally meticulous with the quality of his notes.

“Hit me.”

“I looked through the pictures and all the findings from the crime scenes, and I think I found a connection with some cases that the Men of Letters solved a few years back.”

“Okay.”

“So I found these files that relate to attacks in the Philippines, specifically incidents involving pregnant women or newlyweds. All of them were found drained of blood the next day.”

“Eesh.”

“Yeah. Locals said that it was probably the work of a _manananggal_.”

“... A banana ghoul?”

“C’mon, man.” Sam wrinkled his nose, handing Dean a sheaf of papers. “A _manananggal_. Said to take the form of a beautiful woman with batlike wings who has the ability to separate its upper torso from its body so it can fly around and prey on sleeping pregnant women or young people in love.”

“Interesting,” Dean muttered as he flipped through the file, fingers tracing over the pictures. Truly, Hell hath no fury like a half-woman scorned.

“Okay, so weirdly enough, the tongue of the _manananggal_ acts as a proboscis to suck the blood from sleep people or the fluid from the hearts of unborn children. Could explain the weird markings and wounds that the medical examiner found on the bodies.”

Dean frowned, because the pictures do look awfully similar to the bodies that they saw when they visited the county medical office. “Any idea on how we can kill this, uh, _manananggal_?”

“Apparently if we can find the lower part of the _manananggal_ , the best way is to sprinkle it with salt and garlic to kill it. The _manananggal_ will die if it can’t reattach itself before the sun rises.”

“Sounds easy enough. Just gotta find the legs, then?”

“Yeah, although it might take some time to find the _manananggal_ first.” Sam pulled up a map on his laptop. “Judging by the fact that all the attacks happen in this general area, I’d say we should start—” he circled a dark spot in the middle, “—here.”

Dean squinted. “That a cave?”

“I think so. The lore also says that _manananggal_ usually hide in caves or holes in the daytime, so I think it makes sense to start here.”

“Great. We’ll go scope it out later.” Dean closed the file with a snap. “In the meantime, I could really use a drink. Research is hard.”

“Dude.” Sam shook his head, shuffling their research—well, mostly his research—into a neat bundle and dropping it into his bag. The two of them stood and stretched for a bit (Dean could feel an uncomfortable numbness in his feet from sitting so long) before plodding their way into the bunker’s kitchen, stopping to peer at the scene before them.

Charlie was hunched over her laptop at the dining table, her face furrowed as she frantically typed out long strings of code. Across from her, Cas was lost in a scroll of sorts, pausing every so often to scribble down a note or two on a tiny notepad. Kevin was flipping his way through a book, mindlessly twirling a straw between his fingers.

But that wasn’t the weirdest part.

It was the cups—or rather, what was in the cups.

There were probably around half a dozen of these cups strewn across the table, each of them sealed with a sort of plastic cling-wrap lid and filled with some garishly colored liquid. Charlie had a yellow one in front of her, while Cas was cautiously sipping the contents from a purple cup. Dean liked to think that he’d had his fair share of exotic foods (mostly burgers made with meats of unknown origin, so he was pretty much an expert at this point), but he’d never seen something quite like this. The color reminded him of the fruity cocktails that Sam enjoyed ordering, the ones that had more juice and mixer than actual alcohol and tasted like perfume. Dean generally avoided foods like those, but his curiosity got the better of him.

Puzzled, he walked over and picked up a cup. This particular cup was pink, with a small amount of foam dotting the hazy surface. Dean gave it a good shake, yelping as black spots formed on the side.

“GAH.” He dropped the cup back on the table, Kevin seemingly oblivious to his outburst. “Literally, what the hell is this? Some new cure? Or something you found on the tablets? What’s Chuck trying to tell us now?”

“Nothing. It’s literally just bubble tea,” Kevin replied, eyes still focused on the open book before him. “Kung Fu Tea just opened up in town, so I thought that you’d like to try out one of my favorite drinks.”

“Hey, I’ve had this stuff before, I think.” Sam slid past Dean to pick up a cup and sloshed it around, soft green swirling everywhere. “What flavor is this?”

“Matcha?” Kevin barely glanced up.

“Cool; can I try this one?”

“Go for it.” The prophet tossed a straw and Sam caught it nimbly between his fingers.

“Really, Sammy? You? Bubble tea?” Dean gaped. Huh—this bubble tea was probably some sort of health-food trend, or one of those diets that Sam liked to try out on a regular basis. Dean shivered when he remembered the Whole30 diet he’d been forced to try out a few weeks ago. No dairy? Fine. No grains? Eep. No alcohol? Absolute _blasphemy_.

“So. What exactly is bubble tea? Like, tea made from bubbles?” Dean scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. All he could think of was pouring Softsoap into a container and shaking it with some tea. That counted as bubbles and tea, right?

“Well, kinda.” Kevin dog-eared a page in his book before closing it, and Dean barely made out the words _BATTLE HYMN OF THE TIGER MOTHER_ on the cover before the prophet hastily shoved it into a backpack. “I mean, you _could_ say that bubble tea is tea with bubbles in it.”

“That… really doesn’t help. Don’t play coy with me, Kev.”

“Well, I’d say don’t knock it till you try it. Look, even Cas is having fun, I think.” Kevin pointed towards the aforementioned fallen angel who was inspecting his cup, a curious yet unreadable expression on his face.

“Dean, just try it.” Charlie motioned from her perch. “It honestly won’t kill you. I’ve had bubble tea a lot, and it’s really good.”

“Fine. I’ll bite.” Dean shrugged, shaking the pink cup in his hand once more. “I’m taking this one.”

“It’s all yours.” Kevin rummaged in a nearby bag and pulled out another straw, waving it in Dean’s general direction. “You do know how to drink bubble tea, right?”

“Kev, it’s just a drink. I’m sure it can’t be more difficult than trying to drink one of Sam’s favorite frilly drinks.”

“Hey! I heard that.”

“Sorry, Sammy.” Dean removed the wrapper from the straw with his teeth. The straw was big and thick, quite unlike any straw he’d ever seen before, with a sharp point at one end. His mind flashed back to Sam’s words about _manananggal_ and their straw-like tongues, and Dean felt goosebumps dotting his skin. Bat-women and long tongues were definitely not things he wanted to remember while trying out something new.

He stared at the straw and then at the cup. And then back at the straw again.

Dean Winchester, for all the problem-solving, demon-exorcising, creature-killing skills he’d developed over the years, was thoroughly stumped by a simple straw.

“Um.” He tried to make it sound as casual as possible, as if he’d never struggled with a straw before in his life.

“Pointy end, stick in cup, drink. Should be pretty self-explanatory.” Charlie grinned as she took another sip from her own cup.

“Coulda figured that out, kiddo, but thanks.” Dean took a breath before studying the cup again. _So—it’s just like staking, then_. Okay. He could do this. Dean had staked his fair share of creatures and beasts, so a cup should be no problem at all. After all, he was Dean freakin’ Winchester: angel-smiting, demon-stabbing extraordinaire.

At least, that’s what he thought in the split second before the straw sliced open the covering, liquid exploding everywhere, the thick, sugary smell of strawberry filling the room.

“ _Oh fuck_.” He swore as the pink liquid stained his favorite flannel. “What the shit?”

Kevin glanced up and let out an undignified snort. “Not as easy as you think, yeah?”

“Shut up.” With all the dignity that one could muster after an embarrassing spill (seriously; what was he, five years old?), Dean leaned on the counter and took a long swig from the cup as nonchalantly as possible—

—and promptly choked. The flavor was a bit too sweet for his tastes—and that was saying something, considering how Dean generally consumed a good amount of pie on a regular basis—with hints of strawberry and cream coating his tongue. But what really got him was the texture of the drink, because between all the liquid fruitiness, there was something soft yet solid that attempted to hurtle down his throat with all the grace of a gelcap. A nasty, oblong gelcap.

(Dean didn’t think that anything could get worse than those Tylenol® Rapid Release Gels he used to take after especially unpleasant cases, but this definitely took the cake.)

Another slimy something joined the first slimy thing in the recesses of his throat. _No, scratch that_. Several nasty gelcaps.

Dean belatedly realized his utter aversion to the texture as he swallowed, the lumps careening their way down the wrong pipe. Then he was gagging, blood rushing to his face.

“GUH—” Dean sprinted towards the sink, coughing all the while. He bent over the basin and spat, his eyes widening in horror at the black blobs materializing in the sink. He coughed once more, frantically trying to dislodge whatever else was left in his windpipe. There was a _whoosh_ next to him and a fluttering of a sleeve, and a warm arm wrapped around Dean’s chest securely. A broad palm whacked against his back and Dean twitched, coughing up the last of the black blobs.

 _God_. He could finally breathe again. Dean turned around, eyes meeting Cas’s worried gaze.

“Are you okay, Dean?”

“ _What the actual fuck_.” Dean hissed, eyeing the blobs in the sink. They looked innocuous enough, but he was now aware of their true nature. “Are you trying to poison me? Did Crowley put y’all up to his shenanigans again?” This last part was directed towards Kevin, who surveyed the scene with all the concern of an exhausted mother watching her child fumble down the playground slide. Charlie was too busy trying to stifle her giggles to help.

“Dean, I believe that we—and by we, I mean Kevin—have neglected to mention the existence of tapioca pearls in bubble tea.” Cas released his grip from Dean’s chest. Dean braced himself against the counter while his heartbeat steadied.

Kevin shook his head in amusement. “Seems like you just experienced the _bubble_ in bubble tea.”

“Actually, did you know that bubble tea was originally named for the bubbles formed by the foam during the process of shaking the beverage in order to blend the flavor with the tea?” Cas remarked as he folded his arms.

No one said anything. The crickets outside the bunker awkwardly chirped through the silence, save for Sam noisily chugging his drink in huge gulps.

Cas continued, deep in thought. “Apparently, it is customary to chew on the tapioca pearls as one imbibes this beverage.”

“ _GKH—_ ” Sam choked, green liquid spilling everywhere. Charlie gave him a solid thwack on the back.

Dean looked over at his brother. “You okay, Sammy?”

Sam gagged silently.

Cas barreled on. “In my haste, I believe I perceived the pearls to have some sort of medicinal or remedial properties that would be rendered ineffective if I chewed them up, so I was struggling to swallow them whole until Kevin asked me why I was practically killing myself just to enjoy a taste of his heritage.”

Sam continued coughing in the corner. “—what?”

“The pearls.” Cas repeated earnestly. “They are meant to lend an interesting texture of sorts to the beverage. Apparently their spherical shape and peculiar pattern contribute towards a novel dimension against an otherwise flat consistency. They are quite fascinating and provide a great contrast to the fluidity of liquid. I find myself enjoying the balance of the sweetness with the semi-softness of the pearls, and the tea is robust without overwhelming the smoothness provided by the creamy element.”

“Oh, fantastic.” Sam threw his hands up in the air. “That’s great. Remind me again to listen to your rambling about potential hazards before I eat anything unfamiliar.”

“I thought you said you had bubble tea before!” Dean exclaimed.

“Well, yeah, but I thought the pearls were like chia seeds or flaxseeds or something. Like, I could just swallow them whole and it’d be fine.” Sam protested. “At least that’s what I did the first time I drank them, and it was totally okay.”

“... You thought these were seeds.”

“Giant seeds, okay? But that’s not the point, Dean!”

The two brothers rounded on Kevin. “Who the fuck thought it was a great idea to make a drink you have to eat?”

Charlie rolled her eyes. Kevin silently slammed his head repeatedly into the table, groaning all the while. Outside, the crickets continued their symphonic celebration.

“This beverage has quite the interesting etymology,” Cas piped up. “Apparently, bubble tea is also known as _boba_ in certain regions of the United States. _Boba_ is thought to be a transliteration from the Chinese language. However, in Taiwanese culture, the word _boba_ also refers to women, specifically women with big br—”

“And that’s enough research for today.” Dean clamped a hand over Cas’s mouth. True, he had no idea what Cas was going to say next, but judging by the blanched faces of Charlie and Kevin, they had all just dodged a major bullet.

 _Bo-ba_ , _bo-ba_ , his heart pounded.

* * *

Monday afternoon whizzed into the bunker as Dean and Charlie made their way down the stairs, Charlie heading towards her room, Dean going straight to the kitchen. Sam had opted to stay behind—something about notes and other decidedly _not-as-fun_ researchy things that Dean didn’t want to take a part in—so Charlie decided to join Dean on his quest against the _manananggal_. It turned out that the nice little Filipino _lola_ who ran _Manila Cafe & Market_ had much more sinister motives at night, and Dean thought that they were lucky to wrap up the cases with barely a scratch. The sight of tiny Maribel Carrasco with entrails dribbling out of her torso was enough nightmare material to color anyone’s dreams for at least an entire week.

Sam was hunched over a cutting board in the kitchen, eyes narrowed in concentration as he meticulously cut into oblong strands of… dough? Dean had made his fair share of pasta and cookies (not to mention pies), but he’d never seen this purplish dough before. Across from Sam, Cas was carefully rolling each piece of dough into perfect spheres between his dusty palms, pausing every so often to drop them into a nearby bowl. Kevin stood over the stove, stirring a steaming pot with a large spoon, a box of black tea at his side. The smell of molasses and sweet honey lingered in the air, and Dean could feel his mouth water.

“Damn, what’re y’all making?” He reached over Cas’s shoulder and picked up a sphere, teasing it in between his fingertips. “Never seen this before.”

“You have,” was Cas’s only response.

“Oh yeah? Where?”

“They’re tapioca pearls.”

Dean dropped the sphere back into the bowl and recoiled. _Not this bullshit again, I swear_. Seeing the spheres reminded him of his humiliating experience yesterday that led to him losing his wits against a silly, not-even-alcoholic drink.

“Why the hell are you making these?”

“Kevin has informed us that this is an opportunity for us to bond and connect on a more intimate level.” Cas answered, lips pursed as he inspected the uniformity of the pearls. “I find it to be quite relaxing and soothing, especially given the desired goal of a perfectly round sphere.”

“That, and I couldn’t find any chives at the market today to make more _jiǔcài jiǎozi_.” Kevin muttered over the sound of boiling liquid. “Apparently the lady who runs the market suddenly disappeared, so the entire store was in chaos when I went in this morning.”

 _Oops_. Dean grimaced. _Shitty timing_. He’d really wanted more of those dumplings that Kevin taught them to make a few weeks ago, especially considering how Charlie had been out of town then and everyone finished eating all the dumplings before she got back. Dean really wanted to show her his mastery over dumpling folding. That, and he hoped that Charlie would be better at folding dumplings than Sam. His brother… really wasn’t that great at it.

“Why is this so difficult?” Sam moaned behind the counter, wincing as he stretched his arms. “Who even thought that putting solid things in beverages was a good idea?”

“Cocktails have fruit and ice in them,” Cas said placidly.

“Okay, well, y’know what I mean. Like, ice and fruit are fine, but these things? They taste like nothing, honestly. Plus, chia actually tastes like something and is good for you. Tapioca is nothing but empty carbs.” Sam fired back.

“That’s because the pearls you had earlier were from Kung Fu Tea, and in hindsight, Kung Fu Tea wasn’t exactly the best way I could introduce you guys to bubble tea. They charge extra for pearls, by the way.” Kevin continued stirring his steaming pot.

“They charge extra for that shit?” Sam fumed.

“Um, yeah, which is why we’re making them ourselves.” Kevin waved a package full of what seemed to be black cubes in their general direction. “I got my mom to send me some Okinawa black sugar, so you know we’re making the real deal.”

“Suit yourselves. I’m gonna go take a shower.” Dean sniffed his shirt and dry-heaved. There was nothing quite like the potent combination of garlic, salt, and blood to really dampen one’s mood—or appetite.

Half an hour later and Dean was back in the kitchen, toweling his damp hair and wrinkling his nose. The sweet smell of sugar had invaded his glorious shower time, and he really wanted to know where it was coming from. Charlie materialized from her room looking refreshed and was now looking intently at whatever Kevin was doing.

“—thing is, most bubble tea is made with non-dairy creamers, so it’s actually pretty gritty if you don’t mix it well enough.” Kevin was explaining to his rapt audience of three. “So when my mom makes it, we use actual cream instead.”

“That is quite a clever choice.” Cas commented, shifting to the side so Dean could pull a chair up to the table.

Kevin motioned towards the array of ingredients before him. There was a pitcher of black tea next to a cup of frothy cream, and Dean noticed a saucepan filled with the cursed tapioca pearls, glistening in a dark syrup. “So this is the good stuff.”

“What’s next?” Sam asked.

“Here’s how my mom usually does it.” Kevin took a glass and spooned in a generous portion of the pearls, Dean cringing silently as the spheres coated the bottom of the glass in black stickiness. Then, the prophet added a few cubes of ice into the glass before pouring in the black tea, the colors swirling as the tea clashed with syrup. He finished up the entire affair by adding a few spoonfuls of the cream froth to the top before sticking a straw in between the ice. The white cream oozed into the black tea, creating a lovely, contrasting pattern on the side of the glass.

Everyone oohed and aahed—well, except for Dean. Sure, it looked nice, but he still didn’t trust those goddamn black _things_ swimming in the glass.

“So who wants to try?” Kevin asked.

“I would love to try your concoction,” Cas suggested. With no one else challenging his proposal, he picked up the glass and squinted at it before taking a long sip, slowly chewing the pearls.

They all waited with bated breath. Well, mostly Kevin, who probably wanted to live up to some sort of mysterious Tran family expectations. Everyone else just wanted to know if it was better than the bubble tea they had before.

“This bubble tea tastes much fresher and cleaner than the bubble tea we had yesterday. I believe it has a pleasant, lingering mouth-feel to it and surmise that it has something to do with the composition of the fresh cream used.” Cas declared, smacking his lips together for emphasis. “The pearls are very soft and warm and sweet against the frostiness from the ice and the tea, and this temperature disparity is a sublime example of how the human palate can be teased.”

A hush fell over the table. Charlie was confused—since when had Cas become such a bubble tea expert? Kevin beamed and pumped his fist below the table, his identity as a proud member of the Tran family still intact.

And Dean?

“ _Uh_.” was all Dean could manage because he still couldn’t get the image of Cas’s lips out of his mind.

 _Bo-ba_ , _bo-ba_ , his heart thumped.

Sam just smiled blithely at his brother’s reaction. _So freaking whipped, just like that cream_.

* * *

Monday night draped over Dean like a stuffy blanket that threatened to suffocate him. He tossed and turned, falling into a restless sleep colored by dark shadows and a dismal haze. Dean could see a group of figures standing in the distance, their backs turned towards him. He recognized Cas’s trenchcoat and Sam’s tall, mopey-looking figure lingering above the circle. Dean took a step forward, and then another, but the ground seemed to swallow him, viscous black liquid gurgling around his legs as he valiantly strode forward.

It took him quite a while to make his way towards the circle, and by the time he got there, Dean was completely out of breath. He panted, reaching out to tap Cas on the back.

“Hey, Cas—” The figure turned around, and instead of Cas’s twinkling blue eyes, Dean was faced with shiny black tapioca pearls.

So Dean did the next logical thing. He screamed.

There was a gentle shake of his shoulder and Dean jolted awake, cold sweat dripping down his forehead. “ _Holyshitholyshitholyshit_ —”

“Dean, are you okay?” Cas mumbled sleepily, curling a warm arm around Dean’s waist. The former angel nuzzled his back, and Dean could vaguely feel Cas’s stubble prickling his skin.

“Yeah, ‘m fine. Just had a bad dream.” Dean laced their fingers together and brought their hands up to his heart.

 _Bo-ba_ , _bo-ba_ , his heart beat.

**Author's Note:**

> yes, the manananggal is [a real thing!!](https://mythology.wikia.org/wiki/Manananggal) or at least only in mythology (i hope)
> 
> also, definitely no shade on kung fu tea, but they do charge extra for toppings :>
> 
> thanks for reading—this one's for you, tia!


End file.
